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Training for the Trenches 

A BOOK OF 
HUMOROUS CARTOONS 
ON A SERIOUS SUBJECT 

By ALBAN B. BUTLER, Jr. 



1917 

PALMER PUBLISHING COMPANY 

225 FIFTH AVENUE 

NEW YORK 






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F O R W O R D 



THESE sketches record the observations of our artist at several of the 
camps where the future commanders of our armies are being evolved 
from the raw materials so abundantlysupplied by the youth and chivalry 
of the nation. It has happened that the artist saw more of the humorous 
aspects of the training system than he did of the serious side of the work. 

To the majority the seriousness of the work of preparation for war is 
all too apparent. Let these folks glance at the following cartoons and they 
will realize that preparation for w^ar has its humor as well as its drudgery. 

It takes true pluck and grit to endure the hardships depicted in these 
cartoons. This little book is dedicated to tho^e who are now training — that 
they may take their places on the battle line of righteousness and justice 



and humanity. "^^^ 15 1917 

©::i.A-ir)7439 



Copyright 1917, by Palmer Publishing Co. 



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Little rays of heatness. 

Little clouds of dust, 
Make the man of meatness 

Act like an automatic sprinkler system. 



Little kits so lightsome, 

Little hikes so hoofy, 
Make a thirst seem rightsome 

To the dog, whose name has no place in the sun. 




Relates, among other interesting military matters, how serviceable a tent is in teaching the science of sh 
ping the rope. Note the prostrate gentleman in the middle foreground. He is staidying the effect of contini] 
frontal pressure on rear positions. 



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Exercising in cadence — and in public — brings joy and exhibitions of individual genius to the day's work. The 
arnest student with the feet, ribs and nose is trying to get up courage enough to tell Sandow to put on his in- 
ignia, as there are ladies present. The dog, who has lost his name, is not yawning. He is much pleased. 




Foot Bath — Believe me, Nehemiah, the worst thing about war is that it fills you full of blisters. 

Brush and Comb — Blisters! Where yoiu got blisters? 

Foot Bath — Where you siuippose, you lobster-faced dude? On my feet — from marching. 

And then the whistle blew. 




Why does the privaite scratch his head? Well, if it's any concern of yours, it's because he has just remember- 
ed that there was one little bill back home he could have omitted to pay if he had forgotten quickly enough. Mr. 
Pickwick, with the dark spectacles, is put in the picture to give it respectability, for the otncer's words 
and the private's thoughts are really shocking. The dog, whose name is — but it isn't the same dog. 




In the Northeast terrain is seen the effect of a strong wind on high angle musketry. Northwest: The brut 
izsd soldiery are following their vicious pursuits. So is the dog, whose name is Oodles. Southeast: Hasteni 
reinforcements to the church sociable. The dog, whose name does not appear on the invoice, is challengi 
the flivver to battle. Southwest: "Da they shoot me at sunrise for forgetting to salute?" 




First aid in the lower left-tiand corner. One comrade is listening to the action of the patient's Ingersoll, 
while the other is applying mucilage ^o give him a stiff upper lip. No, that is not the dear old right-hand 
lady's visiting card. It's a pie. Further West, the plump one is asserting with heat: "Sure, that's a human 
foot". The dog, whose name doesn't matter, is exchanging confidences with one of his master's visitors. 




Upper left splash — Scene at the popular military resort Comeon Inn. Next— You can't judge music by the wa 
the singer wears his face. Step down to the left — Encouraging patriotism and utilizing the natural resource 
3f the country. Dress by the right — Many a stern exterior goes with a kind heart and a great yearning t 
?et out of tight boots. 




All that is left of the upper — Immediately thereafter a memorable lecture is delivered on the unwisdom of 
using a rifle as storage for fountain pens and shoe laces. One pace to the right — "When I get back home 
I'll be a great help to Mother." Going down — Your country calls you to the old swimming hole. And then — A 
beauty parlor into which none but MEN ever come. 




n the army elegance of table etiquette and refinement of embonpoint are insisted upon. The recruit is in- 
ucted that only when he is pressed for time may he eat with his fingers. He must not put on his fork more 
m he can, nor into his mouth a larger quantity than it will hold, and he may not eat oftener than he can 
■ his hands on food. The dog, whose name is his own business, is looking for the bill of fare. 








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I]entre — "Great work. If the Kaiser is in Heaven, you certainly potted him that time." Left of the upper re- 
i^ions — ^Conflicting news from the firing line. Right — "No, no! Aim at the bull's eye, not the boob's lamp." 
ueft of lower regions — "And that's just what I did and then he told me that as a soldier I was a great ballet 
lancer." Right — (1) The marksman assumes the firing position. (2) He abandons it. 



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One of the first lessons a soldier must absorb is how to load fast and full. The artist shows us with wha'; 
eager zest our lads study this branch of military science. Here and there may also be observed a little prac- 
tice in bomb throwing. The dog, whose name is Oodles, is debating whether he should eat the abject or play 
a tune on it. A 




The Instructor — "Get me right, Egbert. That rifle isn't a hoe and the bullets aren't seeds, even if you have got 
a harrowing face. The dog, whose name has ibeen deleted by the censor, is skirmishing in close order. 




^eft uppercut — Frightfulness uncovered by cook and captured. The dog, who may never have had a name, is 
aaking a speech. Right hook — Outsider: "Hey, you brass-nosed pill box, can't you see we're cleaning up?" In- 
ider: "Well, you blushing chambermaids, ain't I helping you?" Lower left jab— Repelling an infantry attack, 
light counter— Unresisting valor is shot by Beauty. And the dog's name is Oodles. 



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